


Up in Flames

by PumpkinPillars



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Abuse of Tranquils, Blood, Disabled Character, Dragon Age AU, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mage!Rhys, Self Harm, Tales from the Borderlands but in the Dragon Age Setting, Templar!Vasquez, Templar!Vaughn, Templar!Yvette, Vasquez is creepy, Violence, almost!blood-magic, anti-mage sentiment, burn victim, rating/tags will update with chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-06-09 20:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6921838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinPillars/pseuds/PumpkinPillars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys is a mage in the Circle and life is good with his friends and Templars: Yvette and Vaughn.</p><p>Until Vasquez shows up in his life again and things get difficult.</p><p>And then Jack happens and it all just goes up in flames.</p><p>Or: Rhys is a mage gets agrees to possession by a spirit in the Fade who calls himself Handsome Jack and everything goes to hell. *jazz-hands*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Safe in the Circle

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, so this is my first fic in a LONG time, like, _a decade_. I am SUPER open to constructive criticism because whoa do I need some practice.  
>  Also tagging, let me know if I need to change or add tags for warnings and the like. 
> 
> Many thanks to my beta-BAMF: [ohnoktcsk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoktcsk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the Hyperion gang but in DRAGON AGE (sort of)!

Rhys had lived in a few Mage Circles over his life. Some Circles were miserable experiences, especially after finding out about his issues with fire. But the Hyperion Circle was been a positive experience and a fortuitous change of scenery away from his tormentors. This Circle had plenty of protections against rogue spells, which brought a great sense of safety to Rhys. It also had two of his best friends, Yvette and Vaughn— _templars_ , of all people—which had really helped the place to become home.

Yvette enjoyed teasing Rhys, but in the mostly well-intentioned way that came with verbal sparring with a partner she knew she could beat but who was just a little too stubborn to back down. Rhys was happy to have an outlet for the sometimes ill-advised sass who he knew wouldn’t follow through with threats; Yvette could easily be bribed if he went too far and was otherwise pretty easy-going. She was also regular gossip, which was just plain fun. How she became a templar Rhys could never quite get out of her, but he was happy for it, and she seemed happy to have someone to gently poke fun at and steal lunches from; Rhys was a fairly picky eater even for a circle mage and she was happy to take advantage of his finicky diet in exchange for what she thought were the best parts of a meal. He wasn’t as picky as she liked to think, but he was happy to surrender a little more of his meals to her— so long as it wasn’t the ice cream. 

Vaughn was Rhys's _best_ friend, though. He was like a brother, even after knowing him only a few short years since they had both come to the Hyperion Circle. The elven templar was curious, which made him a great ally in Rhys’ studies. The templar was full of traits not common in his peers: he was kind, loyal, _and_ happy to _literally_ put out Rhys’s fires with no judgement or mockery, just a quick minor nullify magic or by manually patting out lesser flames. 

It was a _problem_ —Rhys had pretty good control of most of his magic, and was skilled at making his way through barriers and traps, but after nearly burning to death as a child and losing his arm and eye to flames of his own creation he had never mastered control of his unfortunately very natural ability to conjure fire, which tended to flare up when he was particularly stressed. 

Vaughn was curious about magic and far more patient than he had any right to be, having grown up in an alienage and then the Chantry and enduring all the teasing and contempt he did. He had learned to let words roll off him until those interested in picking fights either lost interest or got physical—he was small, sure, even for an elf, but Vaughn was _much_ stronger than he looked in his armor and he tended to finish those fights. Vaughn’s assurance and patience were probably the only reason Rhys had survived his Harrowing and Vaughn never breathed a word about just how many little fires he had to put out during it. Rhys couldn’t ask for a better best bro.

Rhys was happy at Hyperion, he was moving up in the circle—honestly, it was the only real direction he COULD go without another transfer and Knight Enchanters tended to frown on that without a good reason, like people dying. He had some real, substantial finds in his work on magical barriers and the Fade and he’d been called on a few carefully chaperoned outings to remove barriers from ruins to allow for recovering new relics for study. They were sometimes nerve-wracking, but getting out to see the surrounding country was a rare opportunity for Circle mages, and as much as Rhys complained about the overly-bright sun and insects on the way he was delighted to delve into the actual magic that he was tasked with assisting with. 

And then an old face that Rhys _definitely_ hadn’t missed showed up at his Circle. 

As Rhys bustled through the halls, arm full of research, excitedly talking with Vaughn about some theories, he ran into a very solid suit of armor that knocked his work and the wind out of him. He was confident there wasn’t normally a suit of armor on display there, and he hadn’t been compensating for his lack of vision on that side, so caught up with his friendly discussion that was so suddenly cut off.

“Watch where you’re going you scrawny little-” a pause before a deep, condescending chuckle, “- _Rhys!_ Unbranded _and_ no more crispy than I last saw you?” The big man pointedly looked at the magically aided scars on the mage’s neck before flicking back to his face. “Here I thought you’d manage to “burn down whatever circle you’d been sent to since they ignored my advice. Say-” he added, taking a moment to step back and rake Rhys's skinny form over,top to bottom,”-have you been practicing blood magic too or something? Because you are way paler than I remember you being.” The large, hairy templar turned to his much shorter peer, giving Vaughn a greasy smile and ignoring Rhys for the moment. “This little _menace_ still igniting his robes every night?”

Rhys stood frozen in a mix of rage and surprise (which was probably for the best, considering his tendency to say very regrettable things when flustered) so Vaughn bent down to collect the dropped tomes and held them out to his friend. “ _Rhys_ is a model mage in research,” he stated coolly, all too familiar with some templar’s hostility towards mages. “He’s on his way to becoming an Enchanter,” he added _almost_ smugly on behalf of his friend.

Rhys, happy to have the support and something else to focus on that wasn’t the stupid, smarmy face of the big templar in front of him, accepted the offered books and turned to glare at Hugo in earnest. “Why are you here, _Vasquez_? Trying to start more witch-hunts in Circles far and wide? Maybe looking for a mage skilled in illusions? Honestly, I’m not sure there’s anything to be done to make that rat's-nest you call ‘hair’ look _real_.”

Rage briefly flared in Vasquez before he was grinning malevolently. “Actually, I’ve been transfered here to Hyperion for a _promotion_. You see, I’ve also been moving up in the world by protecting people, _mage_. You know, on my own merits and _real_ skills! Charisma and strength. _Manly_ things.” he pointedly glanced at Rhys's robes before continuing. “Not book-reading, cheap cantrips and pretty dresses. _Real_ contributions to society. Some of us have _people to protect_ from _things_ like you.” He watched Rhys go red in the face with a satisfied grin. 

“Anyway _ladies_ , I got places to go, Knight Enchanters to see and _meaningful_ work to do. I’ll be seeing the two of you around—unless you _burn_ this place down, too.” Hugo clicked his tongue and pointed fingers are both of them before turning on his heel on the flustered men and sauntering off towards the upper levels of the tower.

Once Vasquez was out of earshot Vaughn turned back to Rhys with a frustrated look. “So _that’s_ the guy who tried to have you made Tranquil at your last circle? I can… _completely_ understand why you hate the guy.” Vaughn sighed. “He is not the kind of Templar- no- _person_ we need more of around here.”


	2. Smoke and Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasquez is a creeper and gross. Sorry not sorry.  
> I live to see Rhys suffer and I love to hate Vasquez. <3

Rhys didn’t want _any_ of Vasquez’s sort of _anything_ around, but he found it hard to avoid the man once the templar settled into Hyperion’s tower. 

Every time Rhys found himself alone—and it was often; Vaughn and Yvette had other mages they had to work with, after all—sure enough, Vasquez seemed to miraculously appear as if just waiting for the opportunity to taunt him. Rhys had learned to plan carefully to not find himself alone in the library, lest he get cornered and risk igniting particularly flammable books. It’d been a close call not once but _three times_ in the last ten-day as he dodged Vasquez and his thinly veiled accusations of blood magic and incompetency in regard to magic. It was getting impossible to get any research done and it was exhausting work to keep moving. And worst was, he was too busy avoiding the slimy templar to get any work done which meant escape via missions were few and far between. 

After two months of constantly trying to put distance between himself and Vasquez, Rhys finally found himself cornered. He’d been collecting documents from a Tranquil assistant and patiently waiting for the branded man to finish mono-toning his findings; they were _interesting findings_ , just… the _delivery_ of those findings was a little lacking. He knew it couldn’t be helped though, and he couldn’t find himself anything but sympathetic for the man so severed from the fade. When he finished and left, Rhys’s relief was short-lived as upon turning around he found himself practically face to face with Vasquez- he’d let his guard down and now it was too late. 

Faltering for a moment, Rhys leveled a glare at Hugo, gripped his research more tightly, took a pointed step away, and turned to leave with a huff of displeasure as Vasquez’s overly strong odor—a mixture of unwashed man and poorly chosen and overpoweringly applied musk meant to mask his natural scent—invaded Rhys’ nostrils. 

Vasquez took this opportunity to step forward and put his arm out to block the mage’s escape and crowding right back into his space. “Gotta say, Rhys, it’s good to see you getting along well with _your_ people. Have you thought about taking that step finally and accepting the Rite of Tranquillity? I mean-” the bigger man pointedly dropped his eyes from Rhys’s face and took a moment to really take in the slender mage, grinning smugly “-it’s practically _made_ for a pretty thing like you. All quiet and _agreeable_.” 

Rhys blanched at the insinuation, all too aware of the abuse some Tranquil faced from cowardly templars, but Hugo went on. “No more _danger_. No more _fires or burns_. Imagine the good that could be, people _safe_ from careless things like yourself.” His eyes met Rhys’ mismatched eyes—hazel flesh and blue glass in challenge, wanting the mage to just give him an _excuse_.

Rhys grit his teeth and held his rage in check, despite the feeling of his magic thrumming in his veins just waiting to be used on this ignorant trash heap of a human. Using magic on a templar was a _terrible_ idea, and his hand was too full of gently smoking research to push Vasquez away. 

“Piss off, Hugo,” he ground out. “I passed my Harrowing- you _can’t_ and will _never_ make me Tranquil” he added standing a little straighter, trying to use his height to his advantage and using all of his self-control to keep from spitting in the big man’s face.

The templar just crowded him closer, his face suddenly hard to read in the low light and forcing Rhys to back into the wall he hadn't realized was so close behind him. Rhys wondered if he had perhaps made a mistake, his face briefly showing fear and his posture flagging, his eyes suddenly darting over the templar’s shoulder hoping to find some kind of support- another person who could vouch for him against the word of a templar.

As Rhys was about to say something, hoping to backpedal and maybe try to defuse the situation he was currently alone to deal with he was cut off by Hugo—his voice hushed and angry,his foul breath gagging Rhys. 

“I don’t think you understand who’s in charge here _mage_ , and I think you need a _demonstration_.” And before Rhys could so much look back to the man in front of him he was hit hard by the templar’s power- his mana drained like the breath from his lungs as he braced himself against the wall he was suddenly so happy to find behind him and holding him up, dropping his now slightly crispy parchments to the floor in surprise. 

“ _Excuse me_ ”, came an irritated shout that caught Rhys's attention from the sudden and unusual magical emptiness inside him. “Am I _interrupting_ something?” Rhys looked up dazedly to see Yvette, wonderful, _perfect_ Yvette storming into the storage room he'd found himself so trapped in, her armor clanking and her usual sense of stealth disregarded in her clear displeasure. Oh Maker, _finally_ some backup— he was ready to surrender the best part of his meals for weeks to pay her back for getting him out if this. Gladly, she could even have his ice cream if she got him out of this now, _anything_.

Hugo raised his arms in a gesture to show he wasn’t touching the mage currently struggling to stand in his shadow. “The little man’s fires were getting out of hand,” he noted, as if it were just a matter of defending himself. “Had to made sure he didn’t hurt himself again.”

Yvette looked none-too-pleased with the obvious lie and looked instead to Rhys’s still dazed but clearly relieved face. “You okay, Rhys?” she asked, turning a brief glare onto Vasquez before looking back to Rhys with concern. 

Not letting Rhys get a word out first, Vasquez dropped his arms casually and puffed his chest, looking at Rhys square in the eyes for a moment in silent threat before turning back to the other templar and shrugging. “Since your _handler_ is here and she obviously knows how to _coddle_ you, do think on what we talked about, Rhys,” Hugo offered with his sleaziest, smuggest and most infuriating smile. Had Rhys any magical energy left he was sure the man would have burst into flame. Okay, maybe _just_ his hairpiece or beard- that’s fire Rhys would have been _just fine_ with. 

Yvette coldly stepped to the side, glaring at Vasquez as he went, still looking smug and unconcerned. When he was gone she looked back to Rhys and approached. 

“That man is going to give me trouble for _weeks_.” She grumbled looking her friend over for damage and a concerned frown replacing her irritation. “Did he hurt you, Rhys?”

Rhys just laughed, a breathy, exasperated thing. “Not technically? J-just a nullification. A big one- I’m drained but I’ll be alright so long as he’s _gone_.” He leaned back against the wall completely and looked up at the ceiling with a tired sigh, pleased with the wall's supportive presence now after it’s earlier betrayal in trapping him with Vasquez. 

After a moment of collecting himself he found his face scrunching up into what he was sure was what Yvette liked to call his ‘pissy face’ as he thought about what Vasquez had said. 

“That _dick_ also suggested some pretty shitty things about Tranquil. I- I know it’s not… _simple_ ,” Rhys said, very aware that Vasquez and Yvette were of the same level of command, “but can you make sure they’re seen after and not just… _alone_ with him? I don’t think he has any qualms with taking advantage if the opportunity arises.” he added, opening his eyes to look at the concerned templar in front of him and frowning. 

She nodded, looking a little hesitant before obviously remembering why she’d sought out Rhys in the first place. “By the way, Knight-Enchanter Henderson is looking for you. He sent me to come save your scrawny ass from research; didn’t expect to have to save you from _Vasquez_ too,” she adds trying to lighten the mood a bit. “The Boss-man has a mission for you. There’s a barrier that needs breaking and somehow I have the feeling you are ready to get away from this tower and at least one of its templars for a while.” She paused to consider something before grinning wide and waggling her eyebrows a little. “Bring me back something tasty on your way back as thanks?”

Rhys chuckled and grinned pleased with that turn of events and happy to have an out. “I _think_ I can manage to get something for my _brave hero_ ,” he teased. 

Yvette only scoffed playfully, intent on having the last word. “And don’t you forget it!”


	3. Leaving Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys gets to meet new people and hates traveling.   
> Vaughn finds himself surrounded more more tall folk than normal.

Rhys and Yvette made their way to the Knight-Commander’s office, Yvette having offered to tag along just in case Vasquez didn’t go far. It ended up being a wise decision; Rhys had spotted Hugo loitering not far from where he’d cornered Rhys, and he was very aware of the dirty look the templar gave Yvette as they passed. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to follow them.

Once they got to Henderson’s office Yvette gave Rhys a firm but reassuring squeeze to his shoulder and left him to enter alone. Rhys stood tall and composed himself as best he could, feeling comfort in his slowly returning magical energy. He braced his research awkwardly between the wall and his person so he could run his hand through his somewhat out of place hair and took a deep breath before gently knocking, “Knight-Commander Henderson, sir?” he inquired through the heavy wooden door.

He heard the shuffling of papers and some grumbling, only just barely making out a “Come on in, Rhys”, so he, again, awkwardly balanced his load on the door frame and opened the door as gracefully as he could with his one mostly-free hand. He was frustrated by not having had a chance to put his work down somewhere or get a satchel when he couldn’t count on magic; the bags they had around here were awful—worse than the hats—and had Vasquez not drained him of mana so absolutely he could have handled the door and his paperwork easily with a quick assistive cantrip. But no, that asshole ruined damn near everything he touched, Rhys thought bitterly as he entered the office.

Knight-Commander Saul Henderson was a smaller human with a finely trimmed beard and a somewhat twitchy disposition. For a fighting man he seemed forever buried in paperwork: a side effect of Hyperion being one of the best circles for magical research, Rhys supposed. 

The man didn’t look up when greeted Rhys with a brief nod, his eyes glued to the piles of paperwork in front of him before finding what it looked like he was after and quickly paging through the gathered parchments. “Rhys- you’ve a talent with barriers, right?” Before Rhys could open his mouth to respond Henderson went on, “Yes, good. There’s a promise of a good commission behind this one for the Circle.” Saul didn’t appear to have _time_ to pause and take a breath before he continued on. “The client has some mercenaries to meet you on the way and take you there. Low threat, they think, but we can’t have a Circle mage wandering the wilds without a proper escort. I need to send a templar or two with you. Vasquez-” 

Rhys’s eyes widened and before he could stop himself practically shouted at his superior, “ _No!_ ”. 

Saul stopped dead and looked at Rhys for the first time since he’d entered the room, a mixture of surprise and impatience at having been interrupted.

“I- That is,” Rhys stumbled over his words, looking to explain his outburst. “Vasquez- He’s why I came to _this_ Circle, sir. He tried to have me made Tranquil and he-” Rhys faltered, suddenly unsure how to proceed without specifically stating Vasquez’s recent actions. Without solid evidence, reporting a templar for abuse often had undesired results, such the reporting mage being found drowned in the moat. “Please, sir, send a different templar, sir. _Any_ other templar,” Rhys pleaded, trembling at the thought of being alone outside the tower and at Vasquez’s mercy. 

Henderson seemed to contemplate Rhys's request for a moment. “Had I more templars, I’d send him and another templar to keep things in line. The two of you need to sort out your issues,” he stated, as if Rhys and Vasquez just had a minor disagreement and Vasquez didn’t want to strip away his very sense of self and- no, _not_ thinking about that. Gross. Rhys held back a shudder as Saul continued, not seeming to notice. “But I don’t have more templars to spare. The elf-” Henderson rolls his wrist, fishing for a name before it comes to him with a snap of his fingers, ”-Vaughn! Take him. The two of you seem chummy, you can’t have any _objections_ to that,” he added, giving Rhys a slightly accusatory look. 

”This should be an easy job. It’s _made_ for you. Get it done quick and clean and when you get back we’ll sort out your issues with Hugo.” He pulled a sheet from the cluster in his hands, setting the others aside and quickly scrawled a signature at the bottom alongside some brief instructions before handing it to Rhys and returning to the other papers on his desk and gesturing vaguely at the door to tell Rhys he was done and should leave.

Rhys quickly collected himself after a moment of hesitation, unsure of just what ‘sorting out’ the situation with Hugo _meant_ but bowing his head and muttering a quick, “Thank you, sir.” He slipped back outside with his research and assignment both to find Vaugn as quickly as possible and tell him the news. 

Rhys found Vaughn before Vasquez could intercept him again and Vaughn was nearly as excited as Rhys about leaving the tower for assignment. Rhys knew Vaughn missed the sights outside of the Circle and while he was clearly a bit nervous at the prospect of so little other support outside their tower and home, they were both excited at the prospect of being able to step out of the role of templar and mage and into the less guarded role of friends with no one around to tell them otherwise. 

They shared a private fist bump in victory and set to collecting supplies and making arrangements before they were on their way out of the tower, over the moat, and heading uneventfully to the nearby crossroads township of Prosperity to meet up with their mercenaries for the longer road.

When they arrived at the Inn detailed in the paperwork Henderson had given Rhys they had no trouble spotting the women they were assigned to meet simply because it was nearly impossible to miss the two _qunari_ in the small inn populated mostly by humans and the odd elf serving drinks. They were the only clear combat-ready folk and they seemed to perk up at Rhys and Vaughn's entrance, whereas the rest of the establishment seemed happy to pay them no mind.

The two women looked… a little unsavory, Rhys thought. The taller of the two had daggers lined up and strapped securely to her leather-clad thighs. A scar crossing down over her brow above her right eye, she didn’t have horns which was odd for a qunari- not that Rhys had seen too many but he knew a little of what to expect. The lack of horns allowed her the clearance to wear a hat over her short-cropped hair which was _almost_ comical on a grey giant- it was a nice hat though. She smiled a little awkwardly- the expression not quite reaching her green eyes as Rhys made eye contact but it was more welcoming than the smaller woman sitting to her left. 

The other qunari was looking over Rhys and Vaughn in a way that was _absolutely_ sizing them up. She did have horns- they were long and swept back over the crown of her head and then back up towards the sky. Her hair was kept tied back in long, neat locs, slightly darker in color than her companion’s. She was pretty. Also pretty _terrifying_ he realised between her scowl and the _single biggest sword Rhys had ever seen_ peeking up over her shoulder and clearly strapped to her back; close at hand. The blade easily as tall as he was and he was suddenly _very_ aware that she could probably break him in half if she wanted to. He’s a little torn on how he feels about that and shushes that part of his brain with an unusual show of restraint.

Rhys briefly checks with his companion and Vaughn looks about as surprised as Rhys felt. The note hadn’t said the mercenaries would be qunari but it did say they’d be sisters- ‘Fiona and Sasha’. Rhys could definitely see those two as being siblings and knowing how qunari felt about the Chantry, he wouldn’t be surprised if they decided to omit that particular big, grey detail. 

Rhys composed himself and gave Vaughn a reassuring pat to the back- accidentally and loudly slapping his hand against his friend’s shield and causing both of them to flinch a bit. Rhys tries to recover some pride from the startle by hiding any further reaction to the sting in his fingers before leading the way over to the two very big women. 

“Fiona and Sasha, I presume?” Rhys asks with as forced swagger as having the two come up to his shoulders while seated allows for- Rhys isn’t using to having people be much taller than he is. “I’m Rhys-” he gives them his most winning smile before gesturing towards Vaughn with his arm, “-and this is Vaughn.”

The horned sister seemed to find some part of Rhys’s introduction amusing and the shorter of the two snorted before elbowing her sister and stating _just_ loud enough for Rhys and Vaughn to hear, “Oh maker, Fi- they sent us an _apprentice_ , I mean; look at these dorks! I didn’t know mages could _come_ this baby-faced!” 

‘Fi’- Fiona, Rhys assumes, shot a quick glare at her sister before turning to regard the two men. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rhys- Vaughn,”she nods at each of them politely, ”I’m Fiona and this _charmer_ is my sister Sasha. I promise her swordsmanship is better than her manners,” she states tersely, quickly shifting her gaze into a dirty look directed at Sasha.

Sasha rolled her eyes, “No really,” she defended, “our employer said we’d get a mage, a _trained_ one,” she huffed, looking down her nose at Rhys,” You _sure_ you can get this big bad barrier down, _beanpole_?”

Rhys spluttered indignantly at the name and clenched his fist, leveling a glare at Sasha and mentally doing his best to will his fiery outbursts to _please_ not make a scene right now. “I’ll have you know I am an _expert_ at navigating barriers and magical traps and you won’t find a better mage for the job.”

Sasha chuckled and shruged before leaning back in her seat. “Alright, alright, mage, we get it. You think you’re hot stuff. We’ll see how you do on the barrier when we get there but this had better not be a waste of our time.”

Fiona sighed in exasperation and waved away her sister’s remarks regarding the two men. “We’re all professionals here, I’m sure we can do what we’re paid to do and things will go _fine_. We’ll head out in the morning for the site- it’s about 3 days west and then we can get to work. You two can get your artifacts and we can get our loot. Everyone goes home happy.”

She paused as if not quite sure what to do next. ”In the meantime I guess... have a seat?” She gestured to the seats across the table, “Or if you’re tired from the long walk from your big, cushy tower you can get a room or two for the night from the Innkeeper,” she pointed with her thumb to the almost impossibly busty woman behind the bar who’s clearly been watching the exchange and winks at Rhys from across the room when he’d found himself staring just a little longer than necessary. He felt a blush heat his cheeks which Sasha had apparently noticed if her snicker was any indication.

Rhys sat down stiffly and carefully avoided looking over at the bar again. Vaughn followed suit and the awkward chatter between the four of them had broken into _almost_ playful bickering over ale before night came and they went off to their own rooms- Rhys sharing with Vaughn and the sisters presumably sharing a room themselves and he wondered how they dealt with the beds here because even _he_ felt cramped in his too-short bed. 

At least Vaughn seemed comfortable on the other side of the room where he chattered excitedly about meeting kosuth- Rhys learns the qunari are called when they aren’t actually followers of the Qun, for the first time and just how _tall_ the women were and gushing over Sasha’s ‘sweet sword’. Rhys just chuckled to himself and teases the smaller man for being so excited over what had thus far been an uneventful outing. 

Rhys found his mind wandering to home after a while; how much he had _liked_ the tower, how safe it had _been_. He frowned every time his thoughts ended up on leading back to Vasquez so he does his best to distract himself from them by provoking Vaughn into gushing more and instead drifts off to sleep listening to his friend’s excited babbles.

In the morning they hit the road and the travel wasn’t too bad for being much wilder country than the previous day had been. They had the odd run-in with roadside bandits and feral dogs but nothing too scary— it doesn’t stop Rhys from complaining bitterly of course. His feet hurt. There were too many bugs, and _honestly_ , who thinks this much mud is fun? It’s Vaughn’s turn to tease Rhys and Rhys accepts it. Rhys _also_ gets a sunburn on his nose and neck, unused to the lack of protective walls sheilding him from the bright sun and while he pouts about it each evening while Vaughn helped him apply cream to keep the scars on his neck from drying out, he’s just happy to be away from Vasquez. He’d take the dirty roads and occasional fight ten times over to stay away from that awful templar any day- sunburns and blisters too. 

He’d forgotten how nice it was to fall asleep and not have to worry about defending himself from a Rite of Tranquility the next day and even on the hard, rocky ground he finds sleep more easily than he had in weeks.


	4. Temple Tantrums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing ever goes right for Rhys. It wouldn’t be fun if it did.

After three days on the road, late in the morning they finally made it to what Fiona, with a theatrical flourish that definitely involved her hat calls “The Spot”. Rhys was doubtful at first- these ruins were old, exposed and seemed thoroughly picked over with what little of them remained. Hell, he would even go as far as to describe them as trashed as from what he could see he wasn’t sure there was anything left for them to so much as look over other than signs of long ago walls and ruined stone. 

That didn’t stop Rhys from following when Fiona and Sasha lead them deeper into the fairly expansive area and, sure enough, in the middle of what must have previously been a _very_ large temple of some sort, there were steps down into a shallow, sheltered tunnel. At the back of the tunnel was a barrier the likes of which he’d never seen before; it felt different in this closeness than what he’d expected and he _felt_ it more than saw the barrier- just barely a shimmer when the light hit it just right and he focused hard. It felt old and powerful and he was suddenly having a few doubts about his skills but between the challenging look Sasha was giving him and two thumbs up in support from Vaughn Rhys stubbornly settled himself in and got to work while everyone else set up camp and set up watch.

Rhys was able to touch the barrier and it felt as solid and unyielding as the outer walls of The Circles. He detected no hint of elemental magic to it but he started his task by trying as many different basic elemental spells on the barrier as he could; it never hurt to try the basics first and get them out of the way. Not unsurprisingly, none of those attempts seemed to drain away even a little of the energy the barrier gave off so he moved on and checked them off his mental list. 

He’d done the research, he knew common mixtures of spells were sometimes used as keys, even in older containment spells and so his next attempts targeted the barrier using spells emulating spirits of varying emotions to see if it was less of a thing and more of a feeling needed to unlock the barrier. Those efforts too were fruitless though and after hours of trying everything he could think of Vaughn broke his focus to inform him they’d gotten some food ready and that he needed a break. 

Vaughn was right and how Rhys had missed the heavenly smell of cooked meat he was unsure. He was immensely grateful for both the break _and_ the thought of his first cooked meal since the inn, their previous meals having consisted of their dried rations of jerky and fruits with little recent preparation and while they kept his hunger at bay the meals have left much to be desired.  
The campsite was close to the barrier and as Rhys headed toward the campfire Vaughn silently gauged how much energy he’d spent and Rhys smiled, pleased with himself that he _did_ have enough mana in reserve for some assistive cantrips and Vaughn got the hint- he didn’t need the templar’s assistance this time around though he was silently grateful that Vaughn had gotten in the habit of wordlessly checking with him when other people were around rather than publicly fussing-it kept dinner from becoming an ordeal.

The two men headed over to the waiting cooking pot and while the contents _smelled_ marvelous Rhys was less impressed with the delivery of the meal, it’s was a ...stew? _Maybe?_ Whatever it was it was more mush than anything else in texture with some unidentifiable floating chunks of… some kind of plant perhaps? A type of root maybe? He glanced over spotted the readied travel dishes and summoned up some energy to levitate and pull a nearby dish over to his side before he scooped a tentative portion onto the floating vessel, watching it slowly unstick from the spoon as a single, gelatinous mass and splatter messily and Rhys couldn't’ help but cringe just a little aware of Vaughn’s muffled chuckle as he watched him, waiting for his own turn at food. 

Fiona had apparently been watching him as well and made less of an effort to hide her snort of amusement. “It’s not gonna bite you, Rhys,” she assured him, glancing between the mage and his meal. 

Rhys had quickly handed the serving spoon to Vaughn and grabbed his bowl from the air a little more roughly than was strictly necessary before turning away and giving Vaughn, who was still chuckling, damn him, the space he needed to serve himself. 

“I know _that_ ,” he spat back at the Qunari a little too defensively, eyeing the contents of his plate with no less concern and suddenly a little more suspicion than before. “It’s just… Do I _want_ to know what this is?” He voice shifts lower, just loud enough that Vaughn should hear him and adds, “...Was?” and he fights a pout as Vaughn only snickers more.

Fiona could only roll her eyes, “It’s food. And it’s much fresher than the dried crap you’ve been scarfing down the last few days. I’m _sorry_ we don’t have whatever fancy kitchens and cooks out here that your Circle has,” she obviously had a lot of ideas about the Circles- she wasn't completely wrong about them serving more…. decadent meals but Rhys wasn't going to tell her that while she made fun of him.

“You’re just gonna have to rough it,” she added with a teasing note that had Rhys pouting and holding his plate close to his body defensively before realising how close the semi-solid mixture was to his robes and not wanting to stain them more than road already had. He sat down by the campfire, settled the dish into his lap and reached out, summoning just a little more force magic to lift and guide an unclaimed spoon towards him with a little more flashiness than was _strictly_ necessary when he had noticed Fiona and Sasha both watching him with a little awe and trepidation- clearly unused to seeing much magic. He was happy to to have an opportunity to show off a little and reclaim some lost dignity. _This_ was why mages got nice things- for all the blood magic, jerk templars, and demon scares they had to deal with at least they could do some very neat things. Rhys could do some very _fantastic_ things if anyone asked- as long as it didn’t involve fire or angry templars Rhys was a hell of a mage and he knew it.

Shortly after Rhys had grabbed his floating spoon he ended the cantrip and cautiously began to dig it into the mush before him and suddenly questioning _just_ how hungry he really was. He’d been salivating from the smell sure but looking at it he was still pretty hesitant about the idea of putting this stuff in his mouth. 

He was saved from his internal battle as Sasha spoke up, “So how’s that barrier coming, ser _expert_ -” she gave him a challenging raise of her brow, “-Any progress?” 

Rhys’s relief for the distraction was short lived as he processed her words and pursed his lips in irritation because he _hadn’t_ made any progress except for a long list of how _not_ to take down the damn thing and he wasn’t fond of admitting it.

“It’s … complex,” he was stalling, looking for better words, “Old and ...stuff”, he cringed, those were NOT the confident, descriptive words he had been reaching for. He decided to instead distract himself with the food in front of him before he could see the _very_ unimpressed look he knows Sasha had for him. No amount of staring at the mess on his plate could keep him from hearing Sasha’s hearty snort though. “See, Fi- Circle mages? _Not_ that great. Next time tell August to find some apostate or something who’s not afraid of falling _up_ like some stone-born dwarf.” Rhys had looked up at that, feeling the heat of his embarrassment reach his ears. 

“Yeah, sorry, we still owe August, Sash,” replied Fiona, looking a little tired, ”and he said a Circle mage could do it. He fronted the money for him- not our problem. Give the guy more time. I’m sure he’ll manage, eeeh-”, she looked uncertain and her voice pitched a little higher while she pointedly was not looking at Rhys, ” _something_.”

Vaughn, best bro that he was, Maker bless him- came to his defense, “Rhys knows his stuff, I promise. Besides, he’s only been at it a _day_. Magical research can take weeks- especially, if it’s not well documented.” Rhys sat up a little higher at that in pride, relieved to have some support and then Vaughn kept going, “This is where Rhys shines best- ” Rhys found himself looking smugly at Sasha and, without thinking moved his loaded spoon to his mouth and took a bite as if to emphasise a point and- well, he _gaged_ and all that smugness and confidence was _gone_ as his sputtering interrupted Vaughn and earned him unrestrained laughter from the sisters. 

Rhys tried in vain to spit out the _horribly_ textured mess he’d foolishly eaten, “Oh maker-” he gets out before he was trying to wipe his tongue off on his hand, “Oh- gwoth-”Rhys said, trying to keep his suffering taste buds at a distance from the rest of him, ”-Thith ith tho GWOTH.” He’d gotten as much out of his mouth as possible and was just _barely_ able to fight his urge to start dry-heaving having, to his relief, actually swallowed none of it.

Fiona didn’t seem to even be able to be offended that Rhys didn’t like her cooking, she and her sister were _rolling_ with laughter and while Vaughn was initially concerned he had quickly joined them after an experimental taste of his own meal, clearly not having a problem with it and it wasn’t _fair_ , Rhys hadn’t expected this to be so awful and he felt a little betrayal at Vaughn’s lack of issue with the ‘food’ which, now having a flavor to go along with that smell- was way less enticing. So very not enticing in the slightest. Rhys wasn’t even hungry anymore and a part of him was unsure if he ever would be again. 

Embarrassed and less interested in food than preserving his ego, Rhys managed to cease his red-faced gagging and regain composure before any of his companions could control their laughter and so Rhys set his _very_ uninteresting dish aside not at all bitterly and got up with what was definitely not a huff and certainly did not proceed to stomp back to the damned barrier, deciding to take out was was not at all a sense of frustration on the magic wall before him. 

Rhys knew he was useful and dammit he was going to _prove_ his competence, his _power_. He knew he was a _damned_ skilled mage and could take care of himself just fine in reasonable situations. That ‘food’ was reasonable, or actually edible- their teasing be damned and he hoped, just a little that the terrible substance they seemed to have no issue eating returned to haunt his companions later tonight with a vengeance . Rhys cringes a little at that incredibly unpleasant mental image he just inflicted on himself, grits his teeth and tries to focus again on the task at hand, leveling a glare at the stubborn barrier before him. 

Maybe just throwing enough damage at the wall would do it- a part of him knows it won’t, none of the spells he tried with restraint earlier so much as caused a _ripple_ in the unyielding force and his spells now don’t appear to be doing much better as he hurls ice, concussive force and straight up spirit magic at the damned forcefield. Each burst of energy splashes against the magical surface harmlessly and Rhys just feels his frustrations grow. He had tried to shy away from fire magic but between his flagging mana and his desperation for progress get the better of him and he finds it accompanying most of his spells. His body warns him of his approaching exhaustion and but he doesn’t even _care_ anymore in his stubborn recklessness. That is, until his sleeve catches fire (because of _course_ it does) and he felt the raw heat bite into his flesh of his remaining arm with a yelp of pain. 

Vaughn was right there though, having apparently calmed his laughter and followed him in concern after his departure. He was smothering the flames before Rhys could even begin to flail and make it worse in his panic; Rhys _knew_ he should follow with an ice spell but those logical thoughts tended to leave him pretty quickly when he was _on fire_ and terrified and so suddenly brought back to the burning house that had brought the ire of the templars, the deaths of those he had cared about and the damage to his young body and all he feels is pain and distant, ghostly screams- some of them his own. Vaughn pulls him from those memories slowly, reminding him to breath and gently guided him to the ground from his shaking legs. 

The sisters aren’t in sight, Rhys was happy about that as his awareness returned to his surroundings and the present. The barrier was still standing there, mocking him- he was also suddenly very aware of his wasted efforts and pain and just how foolish he’d been. Vaughn gently put his hand on Rhys’s shoulder, silently asking him to look at him when he’s ready and Rhys does, if begrudgingly; feeling a different burn in the form of tears threatening and blurring and narrowing his vision. Vaughn’s voice cuts through his fog, “It’s alright Rhys,” he soothes, “you’re okay.” 

As in to test the truth of that Rhys looked down at his arm, Vaughn’s gaze following and when he had removed what had remained of Rhys’s sleeve- charred and blackened and brittle- Rhys hissed as the cool air hits his raw, angry burn- already starting to raise and blister. Rhys knew the drill, he was calm now and he reached in to summon some ice to minimize the damage before it worsened when he nearly chokes out a sob realizing he’d drained himself so completely and there was nothing left to pull from.

Vaughn seems to understand (Rhys swears his friend knows him too well and is both grateful and embarrassed by his perceived neediness) and the Templar pats him again in reassurance before getting up and heading back towards their camp, “I’ll get you a lyrium potion,” he says in explanation as he quickly disappears into the camp.

Rhys was left alone in the shadow of the setting sun and found himself just staring at the barrier bitterly, angry with himself, angry with his- friends? Vaughn was his friend- Vaughn means well. The girls though? He’s nearly positive Sasha things he’s a waste of space. He’s less confident about what Fiona thinks of him but he doesn’t think it’s much from the way she talked about him as if he’s not even there and Rhys can’t help but fume some more, as angry with himself as everyone else now. 

The mage found himself glaring at the barrier again before wrinkling his nose in displeasure and looking down at his fresh burn. He could heal burns now, keep it from scarring- not like the first time. He could do that these days and it wasn’t that bad- he knew, but it sure looked it. He thought about how much worse it could be for a moment, returning to the dark place in his memory of blood and bodies and screaming and his eyes went wide in realization as he snapped back to reality, his eyes flitting between the burn and the barrier again, a new idea fresh in his mind. Vaughn wouldn’t like this- wouldn’t like this one _bit_ but oh- oh this _could work_. He turned to confirm that Vaughn wasn’t back yet- he’s wasn’t, and then back to the barrier excitedly. He got up, his knees wobbly and threatened to drop him back to the ground but they don’t stop him- he’s _got an idea_ and damn it all if he doesn’t try it _right now_! 

He approached the barrier on unsteady feet and when he could almost about reach out to touch it he brought his arm up to his face and braced himself with a nervous swallow- his mouth suddenly dry in realisation of what he was about to to do and very aware of just how much this was probably going to hurt before he bit into the damaged, weepy, burned flesh of his arm. He tastes cooked flesh and then hot blood and he holds back another gag- he’d never liked that taste- and smears the bloody mess of his arm on the barrier and- and it _drops_ \- just disappears like it was never there to begin with. Rhys laughs, he laughs like he’s lost his mind and he hoots and hollers and doesn’t even _notice_ when Vaughn manages to sneak up on him _again_ without trying and his celebrating is broken suddenly by a much higher pitched shriek than he’d ever like to admit came from him as Vaughn turns him around to look him over in concern.

Vaughn had zeroed in on his now bloody arm like an overprotective mother hen and the look he had for Rhys was a mix of concern and fear at what Rhys might have done. Rhys cuts him off before he can ask because he _knows_ what it looks like- “No demon- just blood. Mage’s blood, directly applied.” Rhys clarifies, looking a little guilty but Vaughn seemed to hesitantly accept it. 

The tiny templar sighed, seemingly far more concerned about Rhys’s health than his _very awesome victory thank-you-very-much_ and he popped the cork of the bottle in his hands and hands it to Rhys who takes it, his hands shaking just a little bit and swallows the contents without further direction.

It’s Rhys’s turn to sigh but his is definitely one of relief as he feels his power bloom suddenly inside him once again and he summons a bit of frost to cool his burn (and bite) to prevent further burning and follows up with enough magic to heal the damage he’d done His skin knit together and returns to it’s proper smooth complexion, free of red and he looks to Vaughn in pride, feeling as if he’d recovered his evening and it’s made all the better by Fiona and Sasha peeking out from the camp, now very curious about the noise Rhys had been making. 

Rhys gestured as grandly as he could with one arm towards the now-dissipated barrier and says simply “Open, says-a-me.” His grin was practically shit-eating but he doesn’t care. Vaughn rolled his eyes but Sasha just nods and crosses her arms and simply says “About time!” Fiona seems to agree.

They packed up camp- just enough that it’s easy to grab things if they need to make a run for it. They aren’t sure what may be in the ruins Rhys has just unlocked and the sisters prefer caution when possible, Vaughn is very happy to hear this and offers no complaints though the look he and Rhys share suddenly has both of them wondering if Henderson should have maybe sent more templars and mages and if this isn’t perhaps a little more dangerous than the easy job that was sold to the Circle. 

They headed down the stairs as a careful unit; Sasha in the front, great sword out and at the ready and Fiona not far behind her- watching the path carefully for surprises. Rhys and Vaughn bring up the rear, both at the ready for any possible baddies- it’s not unheard of for giant spiders or undead to take up homes in places like this and neither was very excited about it.

After they reach the bottom of the stairs they’re able to see more of the corridor than had previously been possible when the barrier in the way and while the entrance was simple and sparse the rest of the tunnel was anything but- everything was practically coated in gold. Possibly even _solid_ gold and Rhys was sure he could see Fiona salivating. From what Rhys can make of the glyphs and symbols present down here these ruins are not elven in origin but possibly very early Tevinter Imperium? Maybe before the Tevinter _was_ an imperium?

There aren’t any other corridors after the staircase, just that long, single gilded hall and an imposing set of doors at the other end. They’re stone and also intricately gilded, if faded with time. There are no inhabitants to speak of, this far in anyway. Still, Rhys was… nervous. Something still felt off. Maybe it’s the old air, maybe it’s just not being used to seeing all this gold on everything but at his very core Rhys was filled with concern and he couldn’t quite place _why_. 

“Hey shorty,” Sasha motioned for Vaughn to come help her with the door as she sheathed her sword on her back. “Help a lady out, huh?”

Vaughn nodded and set his sword and shield aside. The two struggle to open the doors with Fiona at the ready with his blades, watching carefully for anything to come pouring out but to everyone’s relief nothing does. The room on the other side is dark and judging by the echo it’s big too. Fiona looks back at Rhys and does her own little gesture, “After you, mage. Maybe you can turn the lights on for us?”, she added hopefully and Rhys just nodded before summoning a small ball of bright light and stepping into the room. 

As he crossed the threshold there was a groan, _felt_ more than heard and he froze as the ancient torches lining the walls suddenly burst into sickly green flame one after another circling the room until it’s properly lit. Behind him Fiona whistles, clearly impressed and rightly so- there’s just as much gold lining these walls and she and Sasha have every reason to be pleased. He lets the magic ball of light he’d just summoned fade out and quietly notes “Guess we don’t need this anymore...”, but no one seemed to pay him any mind, too fascinated with the contents of the room. 

The room was big and sparse except for all the gold. At the far end of the room stood what looked to be an altar- similarly gilded. And along the path to that altar were two huge statues kneeling and facing one another about half-way through the room, also gold- each standing a good 10 feet tall and towering even of the kosuth women. Looking around Rhys was aware that he was no longer the only one feeling uncomfortable and while the Fiona and Sasha looked excited they were waiting for the catch that came with all this good luck.

Fiona stepped forward first looking at Rhys seriously and with her voice hushed turned to him, “You said you do magical traps- I’ll look for the _classic_ stuff, you look for the crazy magic crap, okay?” 

Rhys nodded determinedly and they both started forward slowly with Sasha and Vaughn not far behind them, everyone stepping quietly as if afraid to wake the place. 

They’d made it nearly to the altar though, all their steps a little faster past the statues that seemed to glower down at them. Rhys and Fiona both stared long and hard at the step before them. The floor around the Altar was raised to Rhy’s knees with 2 steps leading up to the top where the altar itself was only a few steps out of their reach now. They could clearly see the contents of the altar now too; an assortment of fine jewels, some very dated tomes and a single, skull with a large, simple symbol carved across its face were arranged across its surface.

Fiona and Sasha eyed the valuables almost hungrily while Rhys was eager to see if those books were still legible. Rhys’s sense of _something_ , whatever it was was definitely stronger now but he couldn’t place the source and he didn’t see any obvious spell trap glyphs in their immediate vicinity. Fiona seemed to indicate a lack of mechanical traps with a firm nod after her visual inspection of the step so Rhys carefully stepped up onto the platform surrounding the altar and took a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding when nothing happened.

This close to the altar, Rhys can almost touch it without moving his feet and can now tell with certainty that the sensation he has is coming from something on the altar and it’s not the books- he doesn’t _think_ it’s the jewelry but perhaps the skull which appears to be the centerpiece and it’s all practically vibrating with energy, just looking at it too close almost makes Rhys nauseous from the way the feeling seems to resonate deep within him. Having a hard time focusing he held out his hand which has Fiona stopped in her tracks. 

“What?” she asks, her voice still hushed, cautious of waking something _anything_ that could be waiting for them to make a wrong move.

“There’s- there’s enchantments on something”, he pointed vaguely to the contents of the altar, “It’s strong so just… don’t touch _anything_ yet, okay?”

Fiona rolled her eyes, “That’s pretty obvious, Rhys”, she huffed. “How about traps? Any.. I don’t know- runes or something? What do you mages even _see_?” she adds, mostly muttering to herself now and Rhys barely hears her, aware of little else but the altar humming with magic before them. 

She seems to take his flustered glance back at her as confirmation of nothing in sight and they both make their way closer to the altar. Rhys’s head is practically spinning now with the proximity to the altar, his eyes struggling to spot anything out of sorts before him- he does but a moment too late to stop Fiona from triggering it- he saw the familiar shape of a magical glyph out of the side of his eye and sees the magical trigger- a glyph carved into the intricate pattern of the tile glow suddenly to life as Fiona steps onto it unknowingly and everything goes to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been a long while since I posted any of this, I've had this for a while but I like to keep a chapter ahead so I was able to put this together and call it "good enough for now".
> 
> I was sick when I started writing this (and started it because I had some depression feelz to deal with and had time to kill) but things have gone more down-hill than I'd anticipated. If things improve and I get the oomph or more time back to pick this back up I totally will because I do have a good deal planned but I don't want folks hoping for an update next week because HIGHLY UNLIKELY. Maybe in a month? I've got hopes!
> 
> And oh man, I just realized I announced this right as things start to get interesting- haha sorry that is sort of a dick move on my part XD


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